Wood Magic: A Fable
"Then why is he king?" asked Bevis.
"Because he is," said the toad; "and as he is king, nobody else can be.
It is true he is very wise--at least everybody says so--wiser than the
crow or the rook, or the weasel (though the weasel is so cunning). And
besides, he is so old, so very old, nobody knows when he was born, and
they say that he will always live, and never die. Why, he put my
grandfather in prison."
"In prison?" said Bevis. "Where is the prison?"
"In the elm-tree, at the top of the Home Field," said the toad. "My
grandfather has been shut up there in a little dungeon so tight, he
cannot turn round, or sit, or stand, or lie down, for so long a time
that, really, Bevis dear, I cannot tell you; but it was before you were
born. And all that time he has had nothing to eat or drink, and he has
never seen the sun or felt the air, and I do not suppose he has ever
heard anything unless when the thunderbolt fell on the oak close by.
Perhaps he heard the thunder then."
"Well, then, what has he been doing?" asked Bevis, "and why doesn't he
get out?"
"He cannot get out, because the tree has grown all round him quite hard,
as Kapchack knew it would when he ordered him to be put there in the
hole. He has not been doing anything but thinking."
"I should get tired of thinking all that time," said Bevis; "but why was
he put there?"
"For reasons of state," said the toad. "He knows too much. Once upon a
time he saw Kapchack do something, I do not know what it was, and
Kapchack was very angry, and had him put in there in case he should tell
other people. I went and asked him what it was before the tree quite
shut him in, while there was just a little chink you could talk through;
but he always told me to stop in my hole and mind my own business, else
perhaps I should get punished, as he had been. But he did tell me that
he could not help it, that he did not mean to see it, only just at the
moment it happened he turned round in his bed, and he opened his eyes
for a second, and you know the consequences, Bevis dear. So I advise you
always to look the other way, unless you're wanted."
"It was very cruel of Kapchack," said Bevis.
"Kapchack is very cruel," said the toad, "and very greedy, more greedy
even than the ants; and he has such a treasure in his palace as never
was heard of. No one can tell how rich he is. And as for cruelty, why,
he killed his uncle only a week since, just for not answering him the
very instant he spoke; he pecked him in the forehead and killed him.
Then he killed the poor little wren, whom he chanced to hear say that
the king was not so beautiful as her husband. Next he pecked a thrush to
death, because the thrush dared to come into his orchard without
special permission.
"But it is no use my trying to tell you all the shameful things he has
done in all these years. There is never a year goes by without his doing
something dreadful; and he has made everybody miserable at one time or
other by killing their friends or relations, from the snail to the
partridge. He is quite merciless, and spares no one; why, his own
children are afraid of him, and it is believed that he has pecked
several of them to death, though it is hushed up; but people talk about
it all the same, sometimes. As for the way he has behaved to the ladies,
if I were to tell you you would never believe it."
"I hate him," said Bevis. "Why ever do they let him be king? How they
must hate him."
"Oh, no, they don't, dear," said the toad. "If you were to hear how they
go on, you would think he was the nicest and kindest person that ever
existed. They sing his praises all day long; that is, in the spring and
summer, while the birds have their voices. You must have heard them,
only you did not understand them. The finches and the thrushes, and the
yellow-hammers and the wrens, and all the birds, every one of them,
except Choo Hoo, the great rebel, sing Kapchack's praises all day long,
and tell him that they love him more than they love their eggs, or their
wives, or their nests, and that he is the very best and nicest of all,
and that he never did anything wrong, but is always right and always
just.
"And they say his eye is brighter than the sun, and that he can see more
with his one eye than all the other birds put together; and that his
feathers are blacker and whiter and more beautiful than anything else in
the world, and his voice sweeter than the nightingale's. Now, if you
will stoop a little lower I will whisper to you the reason they do this
(Bevis stooped down close); the truth is they are afraid lest he should
come himself and peck their eggs, or their children, or their wives, or
if not himself that he should send the hawk, or the weasel, or the
stoat, or the rat, or the crow. Don't you ever listen to the crow,
Bevis; he is a black scoundrel.
"For Kapchack has got all the crows, and hawks, and weasels (especially
that very cunning one, that old wretch that cheated you), and rats, to
do just as he tells them. They are his soldiers, and they carry out his
bidding quicker than you can wink your eye, or than I can shoot out my
tongue, which I can do so quickly that you cannot see it. When the
spring is over and the birds lose their voices (many of them have
already), they each send one or two of their number every day to visit
the orchard where Kapchack lives, and to say (as they can no longer
sing) that they still think just the same, and they are all his very
humble servants. Kapchack takes no notice of them whatever unless they
happen to do what he does not like, and then they find out very soon
that he has got plenty of spies about.
"My opinion is that the snail is no better than a spy and a common
informer. Do you just look round and turn over any leaves that are
near, lest any should be here, and tell tales about me. I can tell you,
it is a very dangerous thing to talk about Kapchack, somebody or other
is sure to hear, and to go and tell him, so as to get into favour. Now,
that is what I hate. All the rabbits and hares (and your friend the hare
that lives at the top of the Home Field), and the squirrel and the
mouse, all of them have to do just the same as the birds, and send
messages to Kapchack, praising him and promising to do exactly as he
tells them, all except Choo Hoo."
"Who is Choo Hoo?" said Bevis.
"Choo Hoo is the great wood-pigeon," said the toad. "He is a rebel; but
I cannot tell you much about him, for it is only of late years that we
have heard anything of him, and I do not know much about the present
state of things. Most of the things I can tell you happened, or began, a
long time ago. If you want to know what is going on now, the best person
you can go to is the squirrel. He is a very good fellow; he can tell
you. I will give you a recommendation to him, or perhaps he will be
afraid to open his mouth too freely; for, as I said before, it is a very
dangerous thing to talk about Kapchack, and everybody is most terribly
afraid of him--he is so full of malice."
"Why ever do they let him be king?" said Bevis; "I would not, if I were
them. Why ever do they put up with him, and his cruelty and greediness?
I will tell the thrush and the starling not to endure him any longer."
"Pooh! pooh!" said the toad. "It is all very well for you to say so, but
you must excuse me for saying, my dear Sir Bevis, that you really know
very little about it. The thrush and the starling would not understand
what you meant. The thrush's father always did as Kapchack told him, and
sang his praises, as I told you, and so did his grandfather, and his
great-grandfather, and all his friends and relations, these years and
years past. So that now the thrushes have no idea of there being no
Kapchack. They could not understand you, if you tried to explain to them
how nice it would be without him. If you sat in your swing and talked to
them all day long, for all the summer through, they would only think you
very stupid even to suppose such a state of things as no Kapchack. Quite
impossible, Bevis dear!--excuse me correcting you. Why, instead of
liking it, they would say it would be very dreadful to have no
Kapchack."
"Well, they are silly!" said Bevis. "But _you_ do not like Kapchack!"
"No, I do not," said the toad; "and if you will stoop down
again----(Bevis stooped still nearer.) No; perhaps you had better lie
down on the grass! There--now I can talk to you quite freely. The fact
is, do you know, there are other people besides me who do not like
Kapchack. The crow--I can't have anything to do with such an old
rogue!--the crow, I am certain, hates Kapchack, but he dares not say so.
Now I am so old, and they think me so stupid and deaf that people say a
good deal before me, never imagining that I take any notice. And when I
have been out of a dewy evening, I have distinctly heard the crow
grumbling about Kapchack. The crow thinks he is quite as clever as
Kapchack, and would make quite as good a king.
"Nor is the rat satisfied, nor the weasel, nor the hawk. I am sure they
are not, but they cannot do anything alone, and they are so suspicious
of each other they cannot agree. So that, though they are dissatisfied,
they can do nothing. I daresay Kapchack knows it very well indeed. He is
so wise--so very, very wise--that he can see right into what they think,
and he knows that they hate him, and he laughs in his sleeve. I will
tell you what he does. He sets the hawk on against the rat, and the rat
on against the crow, and the crow against the weasel. He tells them all
sorts of things; so that the weasel thinks the crow tells tales about
him, and the hawk thinks the rat has turned tail and betrayed his
confidence. The result is, they hate one another as much as they hate
him.
"And he told the rook--it was very clever of him to do so, yes, it was
very clever of him, I must admit that Kapchack is extremely clever--that
if he was not king somebody else would be, perhaps the hawk, or the rat.
Now the rook told his friends at the rookery, and they told everybody
else, and when people came to talk about it, they said it was very true.
If Kapchack was not king, perhaps the hawk would be, and he would be as
bad, or worse; or the rat, and he would be very much worse; or perhaps
the weasel, the very worst of all.
"So they agreed that, rather than have these, they would have Kapchack
as the least evil. When the hawk and the rat heard what the king had
said, they hated each other ten times more than before, lest
Kapchack--if ever he should give up the crown--should choose one or
other of them as his successor, for that was how they understood the
hint. Not that there is the least chance of his giving up the crown; not
he, my dear, and he will never die, as everybody knows (here the toad
winked slightly), and he will never grow any older; all he does is to
grow wiser, and wiser, and wiser, and wiser. All the other birds die,
but Kapchack lives for ever. Long live the mighty Kapchack!" said the
toad very loud, that all might hear how loyal he was, and then went on
speaking lower. "Yet the hawk, and the crow, and the rook, and the jay,
and all of them, though they hate Kapchack in their hearts, all come
round him bowing down, and they peck the ground where he has just
walked, and kiss the earth he has stood on, in token of their humility
and obedience to him. Each tries to outdo the rest in servility. They
bring all the news to the palace, and if they find anything very nice in
the fields, they send a message to say where it is, and leave it for
him, so that he eats the very fat of the land."
"And where is his palace?" asked Bevis. "I should like to go and see
him."
"His palace is up in an immense old apple-tree, dear. It is a long way
from here, and it is in an orchard, where nobody is allowed to go. And